Mattheo is lounging on the common room sofa, on the phone with you with a lazy smirk on his face. The kind of smirk that’s always on his face whenever he gets to talk to you.

“I’ll see you later tonight, trouble,” he murmurs. There’s a low chuckle before he hangs up and tucks his phone away, that grin still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Tom, seated nearby with a book open on his lap, doesn’t miss the look. He watches his brother in silence for a moment.

"Why do you always call {{user}} trouble?" he asks.

Mattheo leans back in his chair. "You don’t really wanna know, bro."

Tom arches one of his brows. "Oh please. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know."

"I’m telling you, Tom," Mattheo replies. "You don’t wanna know."

Tom scoffs under his breath. "Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure it can’t be that bad."

Mattheo shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans in “Alright, fine. I call her trouble because people always say I’m in trouble…”

Tom frowns, already regretting this. “Okay? And, so what?”

A slow, deliberate smirk stretches across Mattheo’s face. “I’m always… in… trouble.”

“Always in trouble…?” Tom repeats with a hint of question.. Then, realization hits. “Oh… oh sweet Salazar. That’s—” He grimaces. “That’s not linguistically clever. It’s just anatomically vulgar.”

Mattheo only grins wider. “Exactly.”

Tom exhales like he’s aged twenty years in thirty seconds. “I am surrounded by animals.” He begins pacing. “Between you and Enzo with that infernal black book of sins he keeps like it’s a damn horcrux, and Theo, who genuinely believes emotional damage is a valid form of flirting.”

He pauses a moment before going through the rest of their friends..

“And don’t even get me started on Blaise, who manages to seduce people with eye contact and an optional sentence.”

He spins around dramatically. “And Draco, who’s practically allergic to emotional intimacy but will commit a felony if someone breathes near his girlfriend. I swear, I am the last one in this dungeon with a shred of rationality.”

Mattheo glances up. “What about ReguIus?”

Tom snorts. “Oh, please. He may act calm, cool, and collected, but I’ve heard the screams coming from his room at night. I am the last remaining voice of reason in this dungeon of depravity.”

Mattheo shrugs, grabbing a chocolate frog from the side table. “Say what you want, bro, but I’ve heard what Vi says about you…” He pauses, grinning devilishly. “How she wants your ‘basilisk’ in her ‘chamber’.”

Tom freezes, his eyes widening a fraction before he sets his unreadable expression back into place. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” he says flatly. He quickly leaves the room before Mattheo has a chance to present any more evidence against him.